Until I was around 50 years old, I experienced severe nearsightedness. My parents noticed the problem when I struggled to read the chalkboard in first grade, leading to my first pair of glasses. Almost every year after that, I needed a stronger prescription.
Over time, I learned to use landmarks for navigation since I couldn’t read street signs until I was within a few feet of them. I became used to taking off my glasses to read fine print. My friends and family understood that if they saw me walking down the street and wanted my attention, they needed to come closer so I could see them. In my nearsighted world, I lived a relatively ordinary life but was missing out on experiencing life to its fullest.
Even when non-age-related cataracts formed and clouded my vision, I coped until surgery was the only option. I was in blissful ignorance, or perhaps denial, that my vision issues, combined with my other disabilities, caused my world to shrink.
One day, everything changed. After my eye specialist removed my cataracts, he inserted corrective lens implants. This procedure was revolutionary then, but today, eye surgeons routinely use these implants as standard practice. I was no longer nearsighted, and my world was transformed in the most wonderful way possible.
A few days later, when the surgeon’s nurse removed my bandages, I reached for my eyeglasses, only to find them useless. I felt exposed without them, but I was no longer nearsighted; I had entered the realm of slight farsightedness. When I tried to grab my cane, I missed it twice. My depth perception had changed.
As I walked down the hall to the waiting room, I was afraid I would bump into the walls. I picked up a magazine, but the print was a blur. I blinked, then blinked again to clear my vision and attempted to read, but it was futile. My doctor reassured me that my vision was fine and recommended that I buy reading glasses. Following his advice, I purchased a pair at a nearby drugstore. I felt disorientated and afraid. Was this my new norm? The old norm felt safer. Relief washed over me when I finally made it home. I was back in the comfort of my familiar surroundings.
However, the following week, I began exploring my environment by venturing to a small grocery store and walking to the mailbox just around the corner from my apartment. I marveled at being able to read street signs from two blocks away. I could see individual clusters of flowers on a nearby lilac tree. I even spotted a wild hare hopping down into the river valley. How much had I been missing? My world had suddenly expanded so much.
The reality of my new world struck me the following Sunday as I entered my church. Children suddenly appeared, racing toward me at breakneck speed. People narrowly avoided brushing against me as they squeezed past to find seats. Why were they all stepping so close to me to congratulate me on the successful surgery? My personal space felt cramped.
The gym lights were uncomfortably bright, the lines on the floor were distracting, and the curved arrangement of the chairs made me feel dizzy. The worship dancers waved their flags, ribbons, and scarves as the service began, creating an overwhelming scene. I put on my sunglasses and closed my eyes. I missed my old vision. Life may have been a bit fuzzy back then, but at least it felt familiar!
After undergoing surgery, I gained a true understanding of the world around me. For many decades, I had been living with a distorted worldview. I realized I had two options: either wear sunglasses for the rest of my life or work towards aligning myself with the truth. By the following Sunday, my mind had reprogrammed itself, and I could no longer visualize my old worldview.
Similarly, God reveals the truth, shaking us to our core. Our perspective shifts, and we begin to see the world differently. We may feel uncertain about how we fit in now. Our world no longer seems the same, and we need to learn new ways of navigating it. We must set aside old habits and patterns because we can no longer relate to our environment as we did before. Fresh revelations bring clarity, and often, clarity requires a change of heart.
We must embrace these revelations with intent or risk slowly slipping back into our old ways, allowing outdated filters to cloud our minds and spirits. As we continue to open our eyes to God’s ways, we will look back in amazement, wondering how we ever coped with our previous limited perspective.
Ephesians 1:18-19 -“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.”
Until next week,
© 2025 Katherine Walden